This is my favourite outfit, pretty much ever.
Wide-leg man-trousers, monochrome, Converse. I feel TOTALLY me in it. (Me, playing badminton in 1924, obvs. 🏸🍸👍)
And given how totally UNlike me I feel right now - puking, hormonal, pregnant, in pain, exhausted - it was perfect to wear to the wedding we were invited to.
Unfortunately, white was also the worst colour I could have worn. Not because everyone knows nobody but a bride should wear white to a wedding.
But because for the first time in this pregnancy, I BLED.
Not a lot. And not fresh blood. More...murky brown. But enough to go right through onto my white trousers, and also to make me absolutely TERRIFIED.
I started shaking, I didn't know what to do or where to go. I burst into tears, sat down sobbing, and just BEGGED this baby to please please be OK.
As luck would have it the bride is a midwife, and though I REALLY didn't want to disturb her big day my lovely other half, whose first baby this is, and who was understandably absolutely terrified of what might be happening to the baby, and to me, went and asked if she'd mind a quick chat with me.
She was SO kind, had a lovely chat with me, held my clammy, trembling hand, and said that in week 9 this is very common and almost certainly just my insides... rearranging themselves. NICE.
I did feel reassured, but still in total shock, and very frightened.
I thought of the bike crash. I thought of my age, at 42. And I suddenly felt horrible, pathetically OLD and vulnerable and very very frightened.
And all I could think was 'please please PLEASE, baby. Please be OK.' 👶🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️